


Falling Out

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ace Fjord, Angst, Bisexual Fjord, Fjord's backstory, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Off Screen Minor Character Death, The Clay family - Freeform, The Mighty Nein mentioned, Unrequited Love, are we friends?, cad doesn't realize he has depression, caduceus goes OFF, coming to terms with sexuality, dead people tea, friends?, from fjord's pov at least, implied widofjord and fjorester feelings, kind of, kind of a break up fic, paltry comforts, references caduceus' extreme isolation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: Sometimes the wisest among us still choose to see what they want, rather than what is there. And sometimes meanings are hidden under so many falsehoods, the truth doesn't even matter. An honest conversation breaks apart the unspoken rules of a relationship among two of the mighty nein, and neither was prepared for it.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & The Mighty Nein, Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Fjord & The Mighty Nein, caduceus clay & the clay family, fjord/sabien, past - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Falling Out

**Author's Note:**

> There are actually two other versions of this fic. One is MUCH shorter. Another is somehow even longer? I think? But I kind of just wanted to post this, to actually finish a WIP and get it out there. So here it is. Hope you enjoy!

Caduceus was falling. Caduceus was falling and he had nothing to slow him, nothing to hold onto. None of the others could reach him as quickly as maybe, maybe—

“Fjord? Someone? A little help, maybe?” he calls, hoping his voice reaches up through the darkness to the group.

“On it!” he hears hollered behind him. There’s a series of flashes, followed by salt water sprinkling around him, and suddenly there are strong arms around his waist, the glow of the _Star Razor_ illuminating the darkness immediately around them. Fjord’s face is tucked beside his as he clings to Caduceus.

“Hold on,” his voice rumbles, and Caduceus can feel the effort Fjord puts into spinning them closer to where the wall used to be. Where it hopefully still is. A wizard’s tower has many tricks, and Caduceus can’t put too much stock into what surprises this one may hold, though they call the owner of the tower an ally.

Fjord’s grip tightens on his waist, muscles spasming in fear, but he holds tight. Caduceus braces himself as Fjord reverses his grip on the sword and spikes it into the wall, sparks flying from the friction. He mutters a few words, and with the sound of thunder booming, they disappear from their fall and reappear on the ground floor, falling face first to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

But safe from any damage a fall of such dangerous heights would have caused.

Caduceus groans as his left knee twinges, the old injury flaring in the uncomfortable pile he’d landed in. Fjord’s arm still wrapped around him, trapping him in place. Over him, Fjord echoes the sentiment and groans as he wills the sword away and tries to roll over. It takes a few moments but they identify their own limbs and disengage, Fjord rolling to sit on one knee, breath heavy and a small grin on his face as he looks at Caduceus.

The kind of grin that used to send a flutter through Cad’s stomach. The grin that he only ever saw used just between them. Cad ignores it and sits back on his hands, legs splayed out in front of him. He closes his eyes and listens, trying to regulate his breathing back to a steady, even pace. He tries to hear the others, but it’s no use. He opens his eyes in time to see Fjord’s face crease in concentration.

“Got it. We’ll see you when you get here. Caduceus and I can hold down the fort for a few minutes, don’t worry. Oh and Jester, what wa—drat, was that the end? That spell is _so weird_ to be on the receiving end of.”

Caduceus assumes Jester sent a message about how the others are on their way.

Fjord stands, dusting off his pants, and offers a hand out to Caduceus on the ground. “Looks like the others have to take the stairs down. Except for where you were, the floor came back and the only option left is the stairs. I have no doubt Beau would have tried your route as well, but with more success considering her bat-shit monk abilities,” he says, laughing. “So it looks like it’s just you and me for a bit. Oh how will we ever pass the time?” he jokes, still waiting for Cad to take his hand.

Caduceus’ mood sours a little further. The Mighty Nein had been at the top of the tower in “free space.” Even if they ran down, it would take at least an hour to descend all the way back to the base, with no “shortcuts” or inevitable detours the others take in curious places.

“Great. Good. Just what I need,” Caduceus mutters, shaking his head and forgoing Fjord’s outstretched hand, standing on his own, both hands gripping his walking stick tightly. Fjord looks confused and a little hurt at the rejection of help, and he takes a step in closer to Caduceus’ space.

“Is something the matter? I mean besides saving you from your death fall, which you’re welcome, by the way.”

Caduceus takes a deep breath, but the simmering of emotions he’s tried to push out of his system only seems to intensify and boil. He feels like his tea kettle on the urge of shouting, _“I’m done! I’m ready! I’m finished!”_

“I would just rather not spend my time forced into small talk or conversation from you. I would hate to intrude on your life or dare to take an interest in who you are outside of our faith,” Caduceus says in his most serene tone. Forced, to be sure, but he tries to sound as he always does. He’s not sure it’s working.

“Excuse me?” Fjord asks, rounding on Caduceus and taking his arm. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Caduceus’ grip tightens on his staff as he shakes his arm free of Fjord’s grip. “I thought it would be pretty clear, Fjord. The only times we talk are when you need something, or when there’s battle or danger. I thought it would make sense if we sat here in silence until the others came down, because you never want anything to do with me when your life isn’t spiraling.”

Fjord’s mouth drops open, and Caduceus realizes he may have been more forceful than he intended. _Screw it_ , he thought to himself. Seeing Fjord look confused and lost is a familiar look on him anyway. Might as well drive it home.

“Every time I’ve ever tried to initiate a conversation about something that wasn’t your life or your problems or the Wildmother, Fjord, you’ve turned me away, or made fun of it, or shown no interest at all. Why don’t I finally take a cue from your words instead of your stupid beautiful smiles, and follow your lead? And not give a damn about you as you clearly don’t about me.”

Caduceus turns away, heading to the fireplace in the next chamber. He sits, back against the stone bricking and lets his side be warmed by the low fire. He pointedly doesn’t watch Fjord follow into the room behind him and take a knee on the other side of the hearth, still giving that lost puppy look.

“That can’t possibly be true, Caduceus. We’ve talked loads of times, not just about me or Melora, right? What about when we were at Travelercon? Or before that, all of our down time in Xhorhas?”

Caduceus knocked his head gently back against the stonework behind him. Not enough to hurt, as he let out a deep sigh and opened one eye to look over at Fjord.

“I care about you, Fjord. And for a while, I thought you cared about me too, beyond just a member of the Mighty Nein. I thought you might have cared about me as a person. But at Travelercon, you only ever asked me for advice, or guidance. Our down time in Xhorhas, I spent gardening or working on projects with Jester and Yasha. You tried to talk to the neighbors and Caleb and Essek but you never came up to enjoy the roof or my company unless dragged by another of our friends.”

Caduceus closes his eye again and rests back against the fireplace. “It’s probably my fault for thinking I saw more than what was there. I’ve been alone so long, maybe I forgot what was normal and what was familial versus attraction. I thought I saw you reflecting some of the same inclinations I’ve been having, but I was wrong. And worse than that, I was wrong, and I had fooled myself into thinking you cared about my life beyond what I could do for you in battle or negotiations.”

“Cad—I don’t think I know what you mean, I never, that is, I don’t think I—“

“Shh,” Cad says, still not looking over. It was hard enough admitting he was wrong aloud. It was harder still admitting he has needs to someone who has built him up as some sort of paragon of wisdom. To someone who assumed he was fine and doesn’t feel the same as he or others do.

“Caduceus, it wasn’t my intention—there’s been a lot going on lately,” Fjord starts, but again Caduceus cuts him off.

“We don’t have to talk, Fjord. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to talk to me in the past. We can just sit in silence, wait for our friends. And I will get over these useless feelings I thought were mutual, and we can go back to what we had before. I’ll dispense wisdom and advice and you will keep asking for it until I run dry. That sounds fair, right? No less than what I’ve set myself up for.”

Caduceus knocks his head against the stonework again, pulling his walking stick down horizontal in his lap, resting. His ears flick every so often, the only sign of his irritation, as he tries again to reign in his temper and dismiss the feelings of loss and disappointment he knows don’t rightly belong to him.

There was never anything between them to lose. Fjord doesn’t owe him any affections. He just thought, for a little while, that Fjord was feeling the same way. The smiles, the conversations, the hesitance in touch, the shyness that reflected Caduceus’ own inner thoughts. He’d obviously greatly misconstrued everything. Embarrassingly so. Admitting it to Fjord, just now, wrung him out.

It’s quiet for a while and Caduceus is glad. The blush that had accompanied his statements slowly faded back to his pale complexion.

But the time Caduceus has been taking to not look and not think and distinctly choose not to focus on _anything_ if he can avoid it, Fjord has been trying to add up the words that don't make sense to him yet.

“Caduceus, I don’t know what you mean. We’re friends, aren’t we?” Fjord pleads to him and Caduceus can’t turn his face away. Not now that he’s opened this can of worms.

“I want to be friends,” Caduceus says quietly. “I want to be able to laugh with you and speak with you as friends do. I owe you an apology for thinking there was more between us than reality proved there to be, but I’m not sure we were ever friends, Fjord.” Caduceus swings his pack down from his shoulder and pulls out his tea kettle. Might as well pass the time and conversation with a little comfort from home.

He only takes out one cup, though.

“I still don’t understand,” Fjord says, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”

Caduceus sets up the spit to hang his kettle from over the fire, pouring some water from his supply into it to let boil. He taps the ground near the flames with his staff, muttering an incantation, a prayer, to Melora to help it along.

“I guess I was never going to have a good model of comparison for what friendship is, coming from where I’m from. Isolated, out in the woods, growing up with my family and whatever travelling mourner passes through our dying forest. But I’ve seen glimpses of it, since your friends found me in the Blooming Grove. With Keg and Nila, who immediately took to me even as the others questioned my intentions, my life. I didn’t take offense. I had not often been granted company, and never been granted such company as people that wouldn’t mind an additional set of hands. Asked for it, actually. Agreed to help me with my mission if I helped with theirs. Rescuing friends and family from an evil force also taken root in the forest of my home.”

Caduceus unfolds a few layers of cloth from within his bag, opening up a distinctly strange smell, to those not accustomed to death and the layers it provides new life. Fungi and mushroom flowers and a few beetles crawled over his carefully kept dirt, and he cast decompose over the pile once more, tenderly plucking a few roots and blooms from among the pile. Drinking a comfort tea from home sounded best, right now.

The tea he would drink on long summer days, the wind tugging at him, animals skittering to and fro and the graves around him glowing in the lovely summer light, plants blossoming wonderfully, blessed by the Wildmother. The tea he drank when he felt at his peak loneliness, when he saw every creature had a counterpart to play with, to mate with, to while the days away with, and he did not. When the weather was perfect and he could practically smell his aunt cooking fresh bread and nearly hear his younger sister humming as she knelt by the flowers, putting together little crowns and projects. Crafting a shield, a surprise for him.

It was family, the tea he made. Corrin and Constance’s father, Clarence Clay. He’d coaxed and cared for the patch to grow as he traveled still, keeping it for special occasions. He has never shared this tea with any but one; the Gentleman, when he was begging his favor, as well as hoping he would let Jester know of their connection.

An exquisite complication, family. And how he’d grown to see the Mighty Nein as friends and family in their own right, despite the nature of their relationships to him. Despite the truth shaking its finger in front of him and telling him to stop getting his hopes up.

“I didn’t expect anything of you all, then, really. I was happy to help where I could, and glad when we freed you and the others from the horrors of that demon and his group. I was happy to help you all as you grieved, knowing it had been my purpose for decades to do so, knowing I could be useful again was good enough, for me.”

“It was nothing, at first. I had my share of doubts and fears about the path the Wildmother was leading me on. There were so many moments where I almost regretted leaving the Grove at all. But through it, there were little signs from Her that I had made the right choice in following those strangers who climbed the gate to my home and asked so many questions and hypotheticals I hadn’t had a reason to ponder, before.”

Caduceus goes silent as he thinks back to that meeting. He doesn’t remember why’d he’d been inside, but he remembered the loud shout and sound of snapping wood that had disturbed the calm of the Blooming Grove beyond animal noises and such. The first time in years.

“Um, well, I was grateful for your help in joining our friends. In rescuing us, I mean,” Fjord stutters awkwardly.

Caduceus waves a hand, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay. We’ve been square for that since the beginning, I didn’t mean to bring up that time for you. I just meant,” Caduceus takes a deep breath and releases it as he thinks about how he wants to say this.

“I just meant that later, after I had been with you all for some time. On the boat, coming back and going to Xhorhas, the time we spent together in getting to know each other. Beyond guiding you in the way of the Wildmother, I thought you were indicating _more_. Attraction, of which I found myself falling into with you, as well.”

There. Outright. Not walking around it, any longer.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to lead you on, Caduceus, or-or-“Fjord bites his lip and sits back on his heels, still kneeling. He fidgets with the edge of his shirt beneath his armor, the hem peeking out and worried thinner than the rest of the material. It’s a habit Caduceus has watched Fjord engage in often. Nerves, or anxiety. Unsureness. Lack of confidence. Any or all of those reasons. Caduceus is specifically not looking too closely at Fjord right now. He doesn’t want to misread him so gravely again.

“You’re the first person I allowed myself to like, Fjord, in more than familial or friendship. I’ve seen attractive men before, of course, but funerals are not an ideal time to compliment another’s looks. And less and less people have been wandering through as the Savalirwood grows more dangerous and unpredictable. I realize my mistake now, of course. You are as inexperienced with being found desirable as I am. But you seem to have a definite preference, and I was too lost in my own hopes to realize that I was a convenience to you, an interpreter around a crystal ball, and nothing more.”

“That’s not true, Caduceus, I value your presence as more than that. How could you think that?” Fjord says, face burning and eyes wide. Caduceus checks the pot. It’s nearly ready to begin steeping. He strips the pods from the inside of the fungus he’d plucked and waits a moment or two more.

“How indeed,” Caduceus hums. He removes the top of the kettle and settles the pods in, stirring a few times before removing it and setting the lid back on.

“I’m serious,” Fjord says, voice rising. He gestures with his arms when his words won’t come quite right. It’s an endearing trait to Caduceus. He relates to not necessarily having the right words and finding ways around it to get his point across.

“You’ve been more than just a guide to the Wildmother, Caduceus. I value your opinion and your abilities and what you bring to the group as well.”

“But not my conversation. I don’t hold grudges if I can avoid it, Fjord, but off the top of my head I can remember several times you cut me off mid-sentence or conversation or rolled your eyes or scoffed at my contributions. I gotta say, when I realized how often you did that, it hurt a bit. I respect your opinions, I wish you’d respect mine.”

“Pfft, that’s blatantly untrue.”

“Whatever you say, Fjord.”

It’s quiet while Caduceus waits, tapping his fingers against his staff. He snaps his other hand and coaxes a few beetles out to crawl down his arm and onto his hand. He likes admiring their color and grace. He hasn’t done that in a while. Busy.

“Okay, I can see how what I just said was dismissive, but still! Overall, I really do hold your opinion in high esteem, Caduceus, and I’m sorry if I haven’t shown it.”

“Apology accepted, Mr. Fjord.”

He waits. Fjord isn’t good with silence. And Cad has said a lot of what he wanted already, today.

The tea continues to steep. The pressure continues to build and thicken in the air between them. Caduceus carefully packs away his cluster of grave patch dirt, securing it back into his bag. His stomach is a mess of beetles crawling all over, pinching and pushing and fluttering their legs over his innards. He wants to hear Fjord confirm his lack of interest in final terms. He doesn’t want any hope for that avenue left to him.

The essence of Clarence’s tea is ready before Fjord speaks again. He pours himself a cup and holds it in his hands a moment, breathing in the warmth and familiar scent. He never met his grandfather, really. He was young enough not to remember his face when he passed away. But he feels a warmth flood over him and he thinks of nutmeg and the spiced flowers he wore on his jacket, pressed to preserve them and magic keeping their scent fresh.

He takes a sip and it scalds his tongue. There he goes, losing his patience right at the finish line, again. He winces and returns the cup to be held between his hands, waiting.

“I have only had one man I counted on in my entire life, before I met you all. Vandren. I was barely of age when I was kicked out of the orphanage I grew up in and I had nowhere to go. I had always loved the ocean, had spent so much time there growing up. I went to the docks in Port Damali and generally got in everybody’s ways trying to find someone to take a chance on an untested cabin boy, when Vandren came across me.”

Fjord still fiddled with the hem of his shirt, his eyes were averted, but his voice was steady, decided. He seemed determined to get this story out, wherever it was leading. Caduceus felt the beetles tap and twine around his fingers as they crawled over him.

“He taught me everything. He was my mentor, my captain. I sailed under him for years and years, Caduceus. Crewmates would come and go, some I knew better than others. But none had stuck by me, nor I them, as well as Vandren did for me. And then one day, my ship was sabotaged, and I thought all was lost. I had heard that one other had survived the wreckage, the saboteur. A man I had grown up with, had trusted well enough even if he could be a little shit at times.”

Fjord pauses, licking his lips. His fists are clenched in his lap.

“Very far between in my sailing years, I had a couple sexual encounters. With that crewmate, Sabien, the one I had known for years. The shithead had a side to him that was wild, but appealing, and he flirted with danger the same way he flirted with his crewmates, at times. Sincerely, recklessly. I fell under his sights a couple times, and fell into bed with him.”

“Sex doesn’t really interest me, honestly,” Fjord admits. “Hasn’t for years, even though sometimes I feel in need of some sort of release. I don’t trust strangers easy. Maybe all those years of being ashamed of my body, my looks, didn’t help my confidence in regard to pursuing others,” he says with a forced laugh.

Caduceus pulls out a second tea cup and pours some, letting it sit and steam on the ground between them.

“No, but, uh, what was I saying? Right,” he shakes his head and for the first time in this new direction of conversation, Fjord looks Caduceus in the eye.

“I’m sorry for leading you on, Caduceus, and then pushing you away. I can’t deny there was a curiosity in me about something… _more_ between us. You guided me along my way, but I never saw you as akin to Vandren. Wise, and strong, yes. But there’s more to you, Caduceus, and so much I couldn’t ever hope to understand, and it scared me how interested I was in wanting to ask questions of you, about you. I’ve been a dick about your connection to nature in the past, in the very recent past, even. I’m sorry.”

Fjord looks down, focusing on the gently steaming cup between them. “Feelings that have never really been stirred in me before, have been rising within me as I’ve gotten to know all of you, especially you and Jester, and Caleb. I care deeply for all of you, and my only purpose for the moment seems to be staying beside you all and protecting you as best I can. And as I’ve done so, my fears and interests have warred as I have changed over and over again.”

Caduceus felt an ache bone-deep within him, but he didn’t interrupt as Fjord continued.

“I don’t know how to parse out and understand the sensations I get when I’m with you, versus with Caleb, versus with Jester. I very clearly feel a bond of best friendship with Beau, a connection that was almost instinct, but still took time to develop and trust. I like to antagonize Veth, and she dishes it back just as hard, and it feels like a friendship I’d only seen others have, growing up. A teasing fondness passing between us, something I haven’t really had before. I’d only ever been teased, and hurt on purpose with words and weapons, not built up afterwards. Not like we do within our group.”

Fjord reaches out and delicately picks up the teacup between them, bringing it back to his lap and staring down into it. It’s the cup with a chip on the base and around the rim. What was once a pattern long-faded by sun and weather further north. Colton had tossed that cup to him carelessly when he asked him to pass the set over, and it chipped off the bench near the fire pit they usually cooked around. Caduceus always made sure to give him that cup in the future, and warn him of the possibility of getting a cut from the rough edge of the rim. Despite the months of travel, none of the hairline fractures that make up a new pattern on the cup have been exacerbated. 

“Sometimes being around you, my heart felt a hundred pounds heavier and light as a feather at the same time. The way you talk with such passion is enchanting. And beyond that, everything you say is so _genuine_ , Caduceus. And I am a man of many deceptions and tricks, and your honesty and frankness was refreshing and scary at the same time. I found myself drawn to you, and afraid to let myself draw nearer.”

Fjord blinks and looks up to meet Caduceus’ eyes. Something heavy settles low in his gut as Fjord continues. He can’t move, not to take a drink, to dismiss the beetles, not even to blink. His breath is stuck in his throat, growing shallower as Fjord continues.

“I’m usually much better at talking, I’m sorry to be so verbose, Caduceus, but I didn’t know how better to explain.” Fjord huffs a laugh, low under his breath, humorless. “I found myself considering things I’ve never considered before. Thinking about you or Jester or Caleb when I should be preoccupied with other matters. Wondering how I can bring a smile to your face, and then immediately embarrassed for having thought it.” Fjord sighs, looking back down to the cup. He pauses, taking a sip of the tea. Caduceus follows the motion of tea sliding down his throat, the small sigh of satisfaction as it settles and warms him, and the flavor pleases. “This tastes amazing, Caduceus,” he says. He smacks his lips a few times and takes another sip.

Caduceus’ heart skips a beat and that damnable shred of hope glows stronger within him, even as the stone settles lower in his gut.

“What I’m trying to say is… you weren’t imagining things, Caduceus. I’ve been acting cruelly to you, because you were the easiest to rebuff. Caleb has his own things going on, I don’t think he would ever know or recognize the complicated ways I’ve felt for him, over time…”

He takes another drink, longer this time. Another sigh of relief. Caduceus’ own cup is shaking slightly in his hand, a bit of the liquid tipping over the edge of the cup and spilling down his thumb where he’s cradling it. His mouth is too dry, but he can’t think enough of one complete thought in order to fix it.

“And Jester… despite her teasing when we first met, despite not knowing whether she is still entertaining an affection for me beyond friendship, I feel as if I’m more willing to explore what exists between us than I have been before. Whether it is an attachment that leads beyond friendship or not.”

Fjord tightens his grasp on the cup, bringing it up to his mouth, but not drinking from it. “I’ve never had a family before, or friends I really cared for beyond the easily snapped bonds of shipmates. For so many years, Vandren was all I had, and I thought maybe Sabien would be the only other who takes an interest in me, but now… Now, I have all of you, and I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I have. And truly, from the bottom of my heart, Caduceus, I’m sorry to have hurt you. You have done so much for me, and I hate that you feel I’ve taken advantage of your kindness in our friendship. I will strive to be better to you. To not treat you poorly because of my own shit issues.”

Fjord takes a drink, finishing his cup and setting it down on the ground. Caduceus feels himself being inspected, sees the wide, honest expression on Fjord’s face. An openness that is seldom given from Fjord. A vulnerable nature he’s done his best to bury and hide.

“Please, say something,” Fjord asks, chewing his lip again and returning his hands to worry at the hem of his shirt.

Caduceus closes his eyes against the image Fjord makes before him. He doesn’t want to see. He doesn’t want to perceive or draw insight from anything Fjord just said. He almost wishes he’d never started this conversation in the first place. They could have passed their time waiting in pleasant, if somewhat stilted, silence. Neither having to hear or make such admissions.

Caduceus takes a drink once more, his tea cooled significantly. He doesn’t pause to savor the flavor, instead tilting his head back until he has drunk it all. His hands still shaking, a few trickles falling down his chin as he did so.

“Caduceus?” Fjord asks. Caduceus still does not open his eyes. He shouldn’t have let his bitterness rise up. He always does this. And now he’ll permanently push away Fjord the way he pushed his siblings, his parents, his aunt out the doorway of their home. Away from him. Out of his life, unwilling to even send a message to set a lonely mind at ease.

“You’re saying I didn’t imagine the looks you gave me. The smiles I ever saw dawn on your face when you looked at me. The sweet way you approached me to speak, stealing me away for a private moment. Trusting me to have your back in battles, knowing my strategies and acting in tandem with it, even as our enemies throw twists and tricks. I wasn’t wrong in sensing your attraction to me. It was real?”

Caduceus’ voice is low, raw. He cannot find his calm center to draw from. He feels depleted. He feels like a flower stripped of its petals and leaves and stem split in two. But his last statement breaks his voice higher, into a question he didn’t intend to ask.

“Yes, I guess I am. I hardly would admit it to myself, but I don’t want to lose what friendship we could have, Caduceus. Perhaps it’s better to get this off my chest, now. To explain myself and my selfishness. You didn’t imagine anything. I was sending mixed signals. Unsure enough of what I wanted, or if I wanted to risk pursuing anything at all.”

Caduceus takes a deep, shuddering breath, tremors wracking his body with more intensity than before. Fjord makes an alarmed noise and falls back onto his hands.

“Wha-? Duceus, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Fjord asks, frantic.

Caduceus bites down on his tongue, hard. He feels the outer layer break, and a little trickle of blood pour from the wound. His mind is a jumble of the revelations Fjord had given him. The information painful and still somehow feeding that pit-fiend called _hope_ in his stomach.

He feels a hand reach out to one of his shoulders, trying to steady him. He wants to jerk away, but he can’t. He hasn’t been touched in so long. He misses the casual touch of his family, the hugs and the hands and the annoying hair ruffles, even, because it was all with good-nature and love.

“Caduceus, talk to me. What can I do to help you right now?” Fjord asks. His voice is quiet, insistent, and very, very close. A second hand reaches to his other shoulder, and Caduceus can imagine how close Fjord is to him, and how far away he’s always been at the same time.

He feels an overwhelming surge of shame crash over him as Fjord repeats his question. _How could I be so selfish as to demand an explanation from him? What have I done? I will never get over the debt I owe to these people if I keep acting like that._

Caduceus clenches his jaw, face scrunching in on itself. Fjord shakes him gently, still speaking in that quiet voice before him.

He can’t handle this. He doesn’t deserve the friends he’s made. He should have stayed lonely in a dying garden, and never left. He was too self-centered to effect good change in the world. Why did he not listen and follow instructions as they’d been left? ‘Stay home, hold down the fort, carry on our traditions until we return.’

They would have found a way without him. They’re resourceful. Caduceus has powerful acquaintances and empty hopes that like to mock him. Everyone is better off without him clinging to their back.

The hands on his shoulders squeeze a few times in rapid succession before being removed entirely. Caduceus lets himself slump, shoulders slack and head nearly bobbing forward, to the floor. He feels abruptly exhausted and explosively angry. They sit side by side in his chest, vying for attention, when a new sensation grips him.

Arms wrapped around his midsection, wrapping over top of his arms, keeping them in place beside him, as a weight settles in his lap, a head tucked into the crook of his neck. A sob is wrenched from him as he recognizes the hold he’s in. A hug. An honest-to-gods hug, arms tight and strong around him.

“I’ve got you, Caduceus, you’re gonna be okay. Let it all out, man,” he hears distantly, as if there were cotton stuffed in his ears. Fingernails bit down to the quick are rubbing circles over his back, just the way Constance’s hands moved in their embraces. A comfort he’d forgotten how sweet it felt, and he releases a harder sob into Fjord’s shoulder.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright, Ducey, you’re alright. I gotcha.”

The fear, the uncertainty, the exhaustion pulls to the front, unable to speak. But felt in the tremors running over Caduceus' body, the way he clenches his eyes shut and jaw tight as he can't even make his arms move to return the hold he has wanted so desperately for so long. Near him, Fjord hums and Caduceus allows himself to fall apart, just this once.

But soon enough Caduceus’ tears dry. He’s never done self-pity very well. His breathing peters out into broken shudders, slowly evening out to match the slow pattern Fjord is holding against him. His fingers loosen their tight grip in Fjord’s armor straps, dropping to the floor.

It’s quiet for a moment. Fjord’s hands loosen as well, but don’t drop.

“Sounds like you were pretty stressed. Been keeping all that in for a while, huh, Cad?” he asks quietly. Caduceus sniffs, swallowing down a wave of shame and nods against Fjord’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to look at Fjord. He should have been stronger than this. He’s supposed to be okay. He’s supposed to be _fine_.

A hand runs through his hair, getting caught in a few tangles, but gently unwinding them as Caduceus refuses to look up. Fjord’s voice is still lowly going over top of him.

“Sounds like there were a lot of things on your mind, Ducey, and maybe one of the easiest to confront was the one that boiled over and out, hm? I know that’s what happens to me at times. You’re pretty easygoing, it can’t be easy to be that chill. You had me fooled though, Caduceus, probably all of us. I didn’t know anything was bugging ya, and I’m sorry I never thought to ask before, Ducey.”

Caduceus opens his eyes, blinking a few times to clear the bleariness from them. He looks over Fjord’s shoulder and sees the abandoned, empty tea cup he usually gave to Colton. He leans in Fjord’s grasp, picking it up. He squeezes it as tight as he can manage. He doesn’t have good strength, though. He can’t even use the stress fractures that exist to chip it further.

“I’ve never been told I’m a good comforter, but I hope I can be something of use to you right now, Caduceus. I don’t want to be a fake friend, or for you to feel like I’m using you. I want to be honest with you all, even when I’m not sure what it looks like. We’ll get through this together,” he says, patting his back, breaking the pattern of circles he’s been drawing, before starting them again in tighter circles.

Caduceus has never done self-pity very well. For the most part things happen, he moves on. But self-blame and anger have always managed to stick around a little longer, uninvited, unwelcome. But very, very present.

A white-hot flame erupts in him. He pushes back from Fjord, struggling out of the embrace. “I’m _fine_ ,” he says, hating the sniffle that accompanies his statement. “I’m already just fine, Fjord. I don’t need to rely on you. This was a fluke.” He pushes back further, using the tea cup to bear his weight as he scrambles back from Fjord.

Fjord levels him with a _look_ akin to something Calliope would give him, one eyebrow raised at him, mouth quirking to one side.

“Caduceus, weren’t you the one to tell me it’s okay to ask for help? It’s fine, I won’t say anything to the others if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Caduceus shakes his head, gathering his pack up and stuffing the teacups back inside. He yanks the kettle over, the water inside much cooled, and dumps it out, also storing it within his pack.

“Caduceus, calm down. Take a breath or two,” Fjord commands, standing and stepping aside to get out of his frantic need to clean everything up. To get it back into place. To make things fine again.

Caduceus whips around, that flame sparking inside of him again.

“All you had to say was _yes_ , it was all in my head. That I’d been imagining things. That I’d let my loneliness manifest into seeing meaning where none was meant. What do you have to apologize for? I’m the one who brought up all of this nonsense, as if I had any right to complain. As if I don’t owe all of you a dozen times over, and will never feel able to pay it back.” He’s coming as close to shouting as he ever has, and he can’t even take a moment to find his center and calm down. He’s too busy fanning the white-hot anger inside of him, the outrage that has been slow boiling inside of him until it the lid is trembling on the pot, spewing its contents aimlessly.

“Caduceus, this isn’t like you. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” he grinds out.

Fjord gives him another look that would make Calliope proud. It just makes the anger inside of him flare higher.

“Caduceus, come on, you’re acting all over the place. What’s. Wrong?” Fjord stilts his speech, making it clear he wants an answer. Caduceus shakes his head, standing to his full height and purposely crowding Fjord’s space.

“What are the names of my siblings? I’ll give you a hint, there’s only three of them, and they all start with the letter C. Can you name any of them? You met them. You pranked their petrified bodies.”

Fjord looks so utterly confused, but Caduceus doesn’t back down.

“Well?”

“Uh, um, y-you have a sister named Claire—no, wait, Clarabelle, right?”

“One out of three. E for Effjort, Fjord. Well done, truly, nice,” Caduceus mocks. He hardly recognizes his own voice as he speaks, but he doesn’t let that stop him.

“Caduceus, you hardly ever talk about your family! How was I supposed to know? Or remember off the top of my head?” Fjord sputters, indignant.

“The one who gave us the happy fun ball, you recall her name, yes? Strangers we’ve crossed paths with briefly, pirates who mean nothing to you in the long run. Names I’ve heard you give without a moment’s hesitation. Luc, Yeza, TJ, even Yasha’s wife, I’m sure you know her name. But you have never committed to memory the people important to me, beyond the last names we found so fatefully wonderful, huh?”

“Look- I just have a poor memory, alright? And you hardly ever mention your family! Let alone give us their names. We saw them as themselves for maybe two days, can you blame me for not thinking it important to keep their names at the top of my list?”

“Maybe if you, or any of the others, took an _interest_ in what I had to say beyond a blessing in battle, or a moral lesson as we travel, then you’d remember. Colton, my brother, Calliope, who gave me the knee injury that requires a walking aid but lets me know when a storm is approaching, my sister. And the youngest, Clarabelle. My three living siblings. My parents, my aunt. Everyone else is in the ground.”

Caduceus flashes back to when he was younger. He’d had another brother. But there were some accidents no one was ready to deal with. And once things happen and the dust settles, there really is a natural order to things. A sharp pang of loss jolts through him, and he turns his face away from Fjord’s.

“Everyone else has already left me. By choice or by fate. Only the Wildmother looks out for me, despite what others want me to believe.”

Caduceus turns completely, the fight gone out of him. His fount of words has run dry, and now his throat aches with words harshly thrown, and tears that are building within him once more.

“I know there’s a thousand more important things in the world than me, or my desires or needs. But just once, I hoped I’d found a place among others that would at the very least _care_ that I am not infallible. I have hopes and fears and I’m not sure if anyone has ever asked twice about them.”

He paces away, voice growing wispy as he sighs the last few words out. A bone-weary ache is pulsing through him. His legs are trembling. He finds a larger piece of furniture in the mage’s tower entrance and falls into it, faced away from Fjord, away from the stairs, and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to talk or think or even breathe too heavy at the moment. He just wants everything to _stop_.

And he definitely doesn’t want time for shame or guilt to flood through him. It’s been a long, long time since he went off like that. He knows he can be cruel when he’s angry, but there hasn’t been anyone around to see his anger in _years_. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt until the anger ran out.

From behind him he hears the scuff of boots against polished floor. Fjord clears his throat.

“Caduceus, I—“

“Hey! Fjord, Caduceus! We’re finally down!” Jester’s voice shouts from around the corner, interrupting whatever Fjord was going to say. “Did you miss us?” she calls out as she bounds into the room, the rest following behind her, spilling into the space and quickly claiming the other chairs and couches and a side table, in Veth’s case, to relax on.

“Y-yeah, we sure did, Jester. It’s quite boring without all the noise you lot bring to a space,” Fjord says. “Took the time to meditate, and I almost couldn’t believe how easy it is to focus when Caleb’s not five feet away muttering in Zemnian about spells or cats or whatever.” He laughs, his lie smooth and his voice like honey. Fjord almost makes dishonesty look appealing, when he applies himself. Caduceus says nothing and stays turned away from the others. 

“He’s kinda got you there, Caleb,” Beau says. He can hear the smirk and the slight jab to one shoulder Beau gives Caleb, as well as imagine well the pained wince Caleb gives in response. Beau doesn’t pull her punches, even when she’s playing around.

“ _Ja_ , okay, can we go now? The reason the floor fell out from under our tall friend in the first place was because of an expired time limit. We should perhaps not test the limits of our benefactor’s hospitality.”

“Yeah, plus we still need to buy like, a ton more diamonds and stuff while we’re in Nicodranas. I think the jeweler near the Lavish Chateau got a shipment in recently and they promised they’d hold the big ones back for us!” There’s a quick, repetitive _thunk_ sound and Caduceus pictures Jester bouncing on her toes as she talks. She’s right. It’s never good to run low on what you need to keep alive, keep others alive.

“WAKE UP MR. CLAY!” a voice shouts directly behind him. Caduceus startles, turning around to see Veth perched on the arm of his chair, grinning with mischief written across her face.

“I’ve been awake the whole time,” he says back, blinking a few, slow times. He doesn’t look at Fjord.

“Could’ve fooled me. Now, are you ready to go or what? I’ve got the itch, a little bit,” she says, smile growing wider but somehow a little fearful. Caduceus wants to feel concern for her, but at the moment, he’s just tapped. Nothing left over but to do as he always does.

“Alright, I’m coming. One moment.”

Caduceus follows the others out into the harsh sunlight. He wishes he could find his hat. He swallows the bitter lump in his throat and keeps quiet. The others notice nothing, or mention nothing if they do. Same old, same old. Every now and then he sees Fjord hesitate before taking his next steps, an abandoned look over his shoulder every few minutes. The sun glints off Fjord’s armor and highlights the single streak of white in his hair. The anger within him diminishes as they walk, the others laughing and teasing, Caduceus listening and watching.

By the time they settle into camp that night, Caduceus accepts his role and quietly readjusts himself to be the gentle, serene, firbolg of wisdom anyone might need. But as the dome goes up, and as memories play, Caduceus closes his eyes and imagines instead a world where he is happy, surrounded by others. Not lonelier than before.

When he falls asleep he dreams of freefall, over and over again, never waking when he hits the bottom. A spray of salt water and a boom of thunder echoing as he is tossed through the air. With strong arms holding him tight, and a cruel mockery of a voice laughing in his ear, reminding him, _it’s all in your head_.

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to all the fjorclay/teahaw shippers that felt disappointed that fjord didn't seem to want to act on any feelings he may or may not have had for caduceus (despite every single look the characters have ever shared on the show, lol).


End file.
